


Kiss Kiss Fall in- Oh Fuck

by Airri



Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, I'm attempting to use tags that make sense? sorry if they're weird, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8094373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airri/pseuds/Airri
Summary: This isn't a work with a deep story or involved plot. This is literally just a collection of works about some nerds, hanging out, having fun, occasionally making out, and other nonsense. Apologies in advance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ...So this is gonna be a thing. Updates are probably going to be periodic and random, but I'm gonna try and add to this as much as I can. There's gonna be rarepairs, AUs, mayhem and nonsense ahead. And I'm so sorry. But I hope you enjoy some part of this.
> 
> Prompts? Requests? I'm over at [airrchan](http://airrichan.tumblr.com) or [airriarts](http://airriarts.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those same lines, revisited, over and over. They never get old. They'll never not relate to you.

He remembers finding the book tucked away on one of the library shelves, one day, when restocking the returned books. Curious, he had taken it, tucked it under his arm, and brought it back to the front desk, and sat down, reading the blurb. A fantasy story, about an artist, born with the skill to create wonderful works of art, more beautiful than had ever been seen before in the land. But the young man, he had been taken advantage of, used against those he cared about, and become shut off, withdrawn because of it. Until the day where a monster threatened to destroy the land, and would only be placated by the most beautiful of offerings.

Satch borrowed the book that day, and whenever he had a spare moment, buried himself in it's pages. The others had complained that they were forgetting what his face looked like, but the story had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him head first into it's world. He was so caught up, so entranced, he finished the book in 3 days. And re-read it again before he had to return it.

It fast became his favorite book, so much to the point that when the library bought a new copy, he was allowed to keep the old one. It lives on the shelf above his bed, and he still reads it when he can't find anything else, revisits the scorned young man, who was so reluctant to trust the boy sent to retrieve him, to go on this adventure, and learned that he could be loved and appreciated for more than his magical art, but for his personality and heart. And Satch loved it, the pages well worn and loved under his fingers.

* * *

 

There's nothing more sacred to an artist than their sketchbook. And he's inclined to agree. He's quick to defend it- his work is personal, and no one's business but his own. Shane pours hours over his art- whether it be painting, sketching, hell, even doodling random things. He's protective of it. It's his outlet, and already being such a introspective person, it's a precious possession. No matter what the iteration, no matter how full or empty it might be, it's his, and no one touches it without explicit permission. Jon made that mistake once. And only once.

Shane likes to draw things he considers a big part of his life. He draws home, England, sometimes. Asagao, and it's gardens. He draws his friends, sometimes. Laughing, smiling, playing games. They're good subjects- so emotive, the lot of them, and he likes the challenge of trying to capture that, in his work. It's not easy- he can't just ask for them to pose for him, not the way he likes to draw them. But it's worth every once of blood, sweat and tears.

Even so, he considers some better subjects than others- on a purely artistic level, obviously. And he doubts they even know, because he'd never tell them. No, he'd rather keep the precious memories and moments to himself, in the pages of his sketchbooks, their paper marked with finger smudges, pencil lines, eraser particles and sharpening scraps. They're his little secret, and he keeps it that way. Especially the way one face seems to find it's way in there than the others.

* * *

 

They trade pages one day, long after they'd finally realized what they'd missed, for so long. Satch lends his novel. Shane (reluctantly) offers his sketchbook. Shane sees himself in those pages, that main character. And his heart aches in a glad kind of way. That Satch would adore this book so, and knows that it's loved like he will be. With soft hands and an open heart. With kindness and compassion. Satch looks through those pictures and smiles at their friends, the places Shane considers home, even himself in them. Knows the dedication, the time, the effort that went into each and every one of them. Moments in time captured to be remembered, forever. Knows this will how he'll be loved. Fiercely, unwaveringly, and without apology.

And that's all they could ever really want for. That well worn paper kind of love.


End file.
